


Hop a Plane

by sarken



Category: Real News RPF
Genre: Current TV Era, Gen, Hurt, Id Fic, Not Being There, TSP Comment Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-22
Updated: 2011-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-14 23:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/pseuds/sarken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel knew Keith was quitting. She just didn't know when.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hop a Plane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jamapanama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamapanama/gifts).



The Real Time cameras have hardly shut off before Rachel's mood plummets, and she pulls her her Blackberry from her pocket with shaking hands while she walks off set. Everyone is avoiding her, but there is still a lot of noise, and she puts a finger in her ear as she listens to the dial tone. She knows hers is the only call Keith will take right now.

He doesn't have a hello for her. She doesn't know what he has, because she cuts him off at the "Rach--"

"You told me it was coming, but you didn't tell me it would be so soon." That isn't her voice. She doesn't do _hysterics_ , doesn't do her voice rising and breaking as her vision goes blurry with tears. This isn't her and this isn't happening. She drags the back of her hand across her face and wipes the tears on her pants.

Keith sighs. "I know."

He told her Wednesday, when she was showing him Angry Birds. She dropped her phone on his desk and now the screen is forever scratched. "I wouldn't have -- I would have canceled Maher. I would have been there."

"I know." The way he says it, she can tell he lied to prevent that.

She exhales. It would be an angry laugh if she knew how to control her own body right now. "I'm switching flights. I'm coming home." She has a second Blackberry in her bag, just a few feet to her left. She grabs it and goes for the first airline website she can think of.

"You _are_ home, Stanford."

"Home to New York." She can't read with this light, with these thoughts, with these tears. Fuck it. She'll accost a ticket agent and get on the next flight to anywhere near Manhattan. She throws her phone back in the bag and slings the bag over her shoulder without closing it. She can still make out blurry red Exit signs. She just hopes the door she's about to open isn't an emergency exit. "Somewhere on the way, I'm getting booze, and then I'm going to go from the plane to your place, and I'm going to wake you up and make you get me drunk."

"Do I get a hug first?"

She looks around the parking lot and wonders where her rental is and what it even looks like. She rubs her forehead. "You're going to need a crowbar and three of New York's bravest to get me off you." She reaches back into her bag and finds the key for her rental. She'll walk the aisles and click it if she has to. "I don't have anywhere to be until Monday, and -- God, Keith. You're not going to be there. The State of the Union, it's Tuesday, and..."

"So we won't call the fire department. No one will notice if you come in with an extra two hundred pounds, right?"

She laughs and hits the unlock button on her remote key. The maroon SUV next to her honks its horn, and she laughs again, thankful for the small mercies of the universe as she leans against the cool metal exterior. "You're not gonna be there," she repeats, and it's the first time she understands what this means. "Jesus, Keith, I owe you e--"

"Don't," he interrupts. "You don't owe me a thing. You were going to be here no matter what."

She swallows hard and yanks open the driver's side door, throwing her open bag onto the passenger seat. Its contents spill onto the floor and she decides not to care as she hoists herself into the driver's seat and slams the door. "And I'm gonna be there no matter what. See you by dawn, Keith."


End file.
